


June 6th 1944

by I_have_many_otps



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anniversary, Flashbacks, Gen, Invasion of Normandy, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 22:05:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19118611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_many_otps/pseuds/I_have_many_otps
Summary: “It's the anniversary of D-Day next month, isn't it?” Bucky said somewhat of the blue.Steve looked up from the book he was reading.“Yeah Buck,” he said quietly. “Do you remember it?Bucky nodded, “It was hell.”





	June 6th 1944

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer by writing this I mean no disrespect to the men and women involved in any aspect of Operation Overload. In fact is dedicated to their sacrifice 75 years ago today. Today has been a very emotional day for me and I wanted to put my emotions into something. 
> 
> The idea of Captain America and the Howling Commandos being at the D-Day landings, comes from the Avengers deleted scene and historical accuracy if they weren't fictional they would have been involved. 
> 
> This fic is probably set in 2014 were Bucky has been pardoned of his crimes as the Winter Soldier. So they are probably remembering the 70th aniversay of D-Day rather than the 75th.
> 
> Contains descriptions of wartime violence but nothing graphic.
> 
> "Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum" is "Our Father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name" in Latin.

“It's the anniversary of D-Day next month, isn't it?” Bucky said somewhat of the blue.

Steve looked up from the book he was reading.

“Yeah Buck,” he said quietly. “Do you remember it?

Bucky nodded, “It was hell.”

 

* * *

 

_The landing craft wobbled uncontrollably sending a wave of nausea through Bucky. He was focusing his attention on not throwing up rather than everything else around him. He could hear Gabe being sick behind him, Bucky didn't know if it was nerves or seasickness not helped by the large breakfast they were given beforehand. It was like a condemned men receiving a last meal before they were executed. Not everyone was going to get out of this alive, he hopes Steve lives it's selfish but he needed Steve to survive. He doesn't deserve to die in this war. None of them do._

 

_Bucky’s hand started shaking, the shells boomed overhead they were getting closer, he sucked in a breath in an attempt to control the nerves. He would be no use if he was so scared he failed to shoot straight._

 

_“Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum” Steve’s voice echoes beside him, supported by the several voices saying the same words. He doesn't know how Steve or anyone can else can pray now. God has forgotten all of them. But Steve was always the more devout than him, good little Irish Catholic boy. Bucky on the other hand as soon as he graduated from High school he began to not go to Mass as often. It was the war which made him lose his faith completely. Why would God cause all this suffering?_

 

_“Clear the door. Thirty seconds,” soldier operating the landing craft yelled over the noise of the gunfire. His crisp British accent didn't fit with what he just said. A nervous chatter broke out between the soldiers with officers giving last minute orders. Bucky glanced at Steve in case he wanted to say anything, Steve looked back at him placing a hand on his knee and squeezing it. He smiled, it was a grim smile but a smile nonetheless. A unspoken trust followed between. Suddenly, thoughts raced around his head. Thoughts of his family back in Brooklyn and Steve. God Steve. His third thought was if he died._

 

_The ramp descended and there was no longer any protection from the machine gunfire. The soldiers sat at the front stood no chance, they were immediately cut down by the incoming bullets. Bucky tried not to think about the men in front of him were acting as a human shield. Others were jumping over the side in an attempt at avoid the main stream of bullets. He fixed his eyes on Steve he couldn't lose sight of him. When Bucky hit the water, he gasped as the cold water reached his chest. They had missed their landing site, they were to far out. He looked around in a panic, Steve who was on right a moment ago had disappeared. Bucky's soaked uniform and kit began to weigh him down when his waded through the water as bullets zipped through the air. At least the expanse of water was protecting him somewhat from being shot. The man in front of him fell into the water with a sickening splash, he was floating face down._

 

_Hands grabbed onto him, pulling him backwards. He fought to stay upright and not drown. Bucky turned to see who was holding him. He looked into a man's eyes, big and round with fear. It was Private Smith. Bucky had met him a few days earlier before the invasion started. He had told him had joined up because of Captain America and his Howling Commandos. It made Bucky feel sick. Smith was only eighteen, he had his whole life ahead of him and now it might be cut short. Bucky practically dragged Private Smith onto the beach, the wet sand of the shoreline was stained red. Brave, bold men lay dead or dying on the beach. Bucky painfully shoved him behind a coastal defence as it is the cover they were going to get._

 

_“Private Smith, I need you to try and find your unit okay,” Bucky said keeping his voice firm and cupping the young man's face to provide some comfort. “I can’t babysit you, Private. I’ve got a job to do and so have you. Can you do that for me?”_

_“Y-yes Sergeant,” his voice was shaking he still petrified._

_“Good. I'll cover you,” Bucky said looking up towards the beach._

 

_He watched Smith take a deep a breath and head up the beach. Bucky wondered if he would ever see him again. Bucky was trying to find Steve or any of the Howling Commandos. Once he was on the beaches it was now trying to avoid the shells as well as bullets. Mortar explodes somewhere behind him, the noise makes his ears ring. Out of the corner of his eyes his sees men been flung into the air in all different directions. They land in the sand, bleeding from were legs and arms should be. Bucky doesn’t know how long it's been it feels like minutes or hours._

 

_The hardest thing is ignoring the screams of his fellow men. They are crying for their Ma or sometimes to God. The sound is horrific, something Bucky will never get out of his head. There's nothing he can do, he's not a medic even if he was these men are as good as dead. Bucky felt a pressure in his ankle, a bloody hand was wrapped fiercely around his boot. The hand belonged to a soldier who had lost both his legs, he looked in tremendous pain. Bucky knelt down to try and provide some comfort in his last moments._

_“It hurts.”_

_“I know,” Bucky said soothingly, “Shhh it will be over soon. The soldier had a vice grip on Bucky's hand, he wasn't going to let go._

_“You need to let me go,” Bucky said attempting to release his hand. “Please.”_

_Bucky put his head down and continues up the beach._

_He finally spotted Steve he is on the frontline, bullets ricocheting off his shield. The red, white and blue of his uniform makes him stand out and the ‘A' on his forehead is a perfect target for snipers. He’s not even wearing a helmet Christ does he have a death wish? Bucky ran up to him, “Steve,” He yelled. Steve turned round to face him, his face was covered in dirt, sweat, tears and blood. He looked like fucking Achilles, he guessed that made him Patroclus._

 

_“Get behind me,” he screamed. Then another mortar hit his shield, it send them both flying. Bucky landed hard and pain shot through his chest, he thought his ribs were broken. Bucky forced himself to stand, Steve lay unconscious a few feet away from him. Bucky knelt next him, shaking his arm frantically blood trickled down his face. Steve came around minutes later._

_“You're lucky you're not dead, pal,” Bucky yelled._

_“Have you seen any of the others?” Steve said sitting up._

_“No.”_

_“Go and try and find them,” Steve said._

_“No, I'm not leaving you,” Bucky insisted._

_“That’s an order, Sergeant,” Steve said._

_“What the hell are you going to do?”_

_“Try and take out some of these positions otherwise we'll have no chance,” Steve stood up and Bucky watched helplessly as he ran back into the heat of battle._

 

_Bucky remained were his was looking at the carnage surrounding him before he stood up to find his men._

 

* * *

 

“There is a memorial service at the American Military Ceremony in Normandy, I was invited and so were you but I don't think I’m going to go,” Steve said slowly.

“Why not?” Bucky asked.

“I didn't think you remembered and I didn't want to leave you leave alone. I don't want it to be made about Captain America, it shouldn't be about me,” Steve said, Bucky could see the sadness in his eyes.

“Steve, your not just Captain America. You are a soldier who fought for his country along with all those other men. We should go an behalf of the people who didn't come back.”

“You want to go?”

“Yeah I want to pay my respects and those veterans will be able to understand what I've been through,” Bucky said.

“Okay, Buck.”

 

* * *

 

Steve and Bucky sat side by side listening to the President’s speech surrounded by fellow veterans in Normandy. They stuck out only because they looked like thirty instead of in their nineties. All this men were bonded by their experiences.

Steve's hand rested on Bucky's knee grounding him.

“You are indeed the Greatest Generation,” the President finished his speech to applause and retook his seat.

“Join me in welcoming Captain Steve Rogers to say a few words on behalf of American’s veterans who fought during the Invasion of Normandy."

Steve walked to the podium took paper out of his pocket and he focused on Bucky.

“First of all I would like to thank you all for allowing me to speak on your behalf. I was anxious about coming here today, I didn't want the press to make today only about Captain America. Today is about remembering ordinary men who did extraordinary things. But on that day I was not Captain America, I was Steve Rogers who was one soldier fighting for their country. Just like all of you. I am here to remember those who couldn't come back. People tell me that I’m a hero all the time, but I don't think I am. I’m just one of lucky ones he managed to eventually make it back home. I fought on Omaha beach along with many others but remember the other Allied soldiers on Gold, Juno and Sword. As well as the members of the 101st and 501st airborne divisions who parachuted into Normandy hours before the landings started. It was a combination of all our valiant efforts which allowed Paris then the rest of Europe to be freed from it's oppressive Nazi rule. It's been my privilege and honour serving along side you. Thank you.”

 

As Steve made way back to his back to seat, Bucky knew he was going to start crying his bottom lip was trembling like it did when they were kids. He was trying to suppress his tears. Bucky immediately pulled him into a tight hug, “It's alright,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”

 

Steve sat back in his seat and took Bucky's hand squeezing it. They didn’t care if anyone noticed, if they did not a word was said.

 

* * *

 

  
After the memorial, they had the opportunity to meet the President (or in their case have a friendly chat with the President because of meeting him previously on several occasions between them), the President of France who was immensely to the Americans who sacrificed so much to secure his country's freedom and many other veterans. Steve was immediately swapped by people wanting to shake his hand and tell him their story. Bucky didn’t expect to stopped by anyone until a voice said Sergeant Barnes. Bucky span round in surprise a man who looked remarkably spritely for his age was reaching to shake his hand.

“I doubt you'll remember me, Sergeant, but you saved my life back on D-Day. I just want to thank you.”

Bucky willed his brain to remember he looked deeply into his eyes. The eyes of a person don’t change. They were big and brown.

“Private Smith,” he cried.

Smith beamed still clutching Bucky's hand, he felt himself smiling too.

“I’m glad you’re here I did think you were gonna make it.”

“At times me too, Sergeant.”

“Please call me Bucky I'm not in the Army anymore. Why don’t we sit down? I want to know what happened to you after the war.”

“Please call me Charles then,” he said.  
Bucky offered his arm and led him carefully to a seat which felt very odd as he was technically older than Charles.

 

For the first time since his escape and subsequent recovery from he felt accepted, unjudged and proud of his military service as he listened to Smith's story. He caught himself smiling at Steve and it felt genuine.

 

**Author's Note:**

> They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;  
> Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.  
> At the going down of the sun and in the morning  
> We will remember them
> 
> For the Fallen by Laurence Binyon


End file.
